


The Cruelty Of Dreams

by FunkyinFishnet



Series: Beneath Our Feet [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Angst, Crossover, F/M, Family, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Loyalty, M/M, Male Slash, Politics, Relationship(s), Reunions, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 11:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain of the Queensguard Kili is fiercely loyal to Queen Daenerys, who restored the strange and savage House of Durin to the Lonely Mountain, their rightful land in the North. Such is their bond that many believe them to be lovers. But Kili has been in mourning for several years, ever since the news of the death of his beloved brother Fili. His world changes when Fili is dragged before the court, part of a group of filthy thieves who’d been seeking the Queen…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has taken on a life of its own. I adore both worlds and had great fun weaving them together. I hope that it all makes sense. Endless thanks to quantumdoll for ensuring I got my facts and world-building right. I literally couldn't do it without you <3
> 
> Fili/Kili is the central relationship in this series, but for some reason, AO3 won't let me put that one first. Not sure why, every time I try, it zips back to the end of the queue :S
> 
>  **Warning** : Contains incest. More details in end notes.

 

 

When his brother was among the thieves brought before Queen Daenerys, Kili felt as though a sword had been thrust through him. For a moment, he was sure he was dreaming once more. But Fili was still there after he blinked hard. Heart in his mouth, Kili very nearly cried out and leapt from his position at the Queen's side. Every part of him screamed to be wrapped around Fili who'd been so long thought dead. But the courtly training Tyrion had drilled into him restrained him in time, as did his uncle's lessons. Court was no place for such displays; it would feed too many fires.

 

Instead, despite the enormous shock, Kili barely shifted his feet, his fingers twitching slightly at his side, his eyes staying locked on the hunched filthy figure of his brother. No layer of mud could completely hide the golden shade of Fili's hair; and no amount of years could veil the body that Kili knew so well. His gaze was hungry, he knew that, and Tyrion would have words with him later about being so obvious in front of those who would use his interest against him and the Queen.

 

But in public Tyrion merely raised his voice almost idly. “I doubt these are all who wish to break past the castle walls. Questions must be asked.”

 

Daenerys naturally gleaned what was not being said because she permitted Tyrion to detain several of the thieves, including Fili, and ordered them taken to the dungeons. Kili's eyes stayed fixed on Fili as his brother was led away. Had Fili recognised him? Kili's heart beat so loudly he was sure that others in the room must hear it.

 

Tyrion cleared his throat pointedly and Kili jerked his thoughts back to his Queensguard duties as the Lady Sansa began talking of the latest threat she'd received word of. Kili kept his back straight and his eyes sharp, even as his thoughts churned with shock and possibilities and hope. One hand stayed firmly on his belt, on the smooth handle of the dagger that his brother had forged for him. Did Fili still own its twin?

 

Once the counsel was dismissed, Kili fell into step behind Daenerys as she retired to the private room where lunch was always served for her and for whoever she asked to join her, on this day Tyrion, and Sansa. Often Kili joined them, a privilege and an honour granted him thanks to his unique and intimate friendship with the Queen. His own chamber was even placed next to the Queen's so that he could guard her at all hours. He was Captain of the Queensguard and therefore guarded the Queen's life when even his fellow Queensguard did not. He was always glad to – he'd see no harm come to her and no other on the Iron Throne. He'd fought some of those who also desired it.

 

But Kili swallowed as he walked beyond the threshold this time; was he to be punished for his behaviour? He smoothed a hand through his hair and checked that two of the Queensguard took their posts outside the door as he closed it. Daenerys stayed standing, flexing her legs with a sigh. She ached after hours sat on the seat of power; Kili had heard her complain many times about it. Tyrion poured sweet wine and inspected the food while Sansa pinned the young Queensguard Captain with an eerily-perceptive stare. Sansa always saw too much. Kili lowered his eyes.

 

His heart still raced, like horses free in the night. It beat out _Fili, Fili, Fili, Fili_. Gods, he could scarcely believe it was true, and likely wouldn't until he set eyes on his brother again. His previously dead brother.

 

“The next time you recognise a thief who tried to break into the castle with the sole goal of locating the Queen, don't make it quite so obvious,” Tyrion told him, mostly command, all droll.

 

Kili nodded, that much he knew. “Yes, my lord.”

 

Too many courtiers, leaders of the faith, representatives of the great families filled the castle because it was their right to be there and because they also wanted leverage for their own causes. Far too few put Westeros or the Queen at the forefront of their goals. To them, she was an obstacle to surpass, a young inexperienced girl to manipulate. Thank the Gods that Daenerys was sharper than most fathomed; her bones lean and her eyes clear thanks to what she'd lived through to gain her family's throne. It had been education enough – Kili had been present for a great swathe of it – and Daenerys had triumphed. And she now surrounded herself with enough loyal and wise friends to keep her informed of all possible plots and to advise her thoroughly without agenda.

 

Kili's stalled display that morning could give some enterprising soul a morsel to use – against him perhaps, many didn't like that a lowly Northerner from the House of Durin held such an exalted position, or against Daenerys somehow. Kili would rather be exiled to the Iron Islands than be the cause of her downfall.

 

The Queen looked at him curiously, despite her beautiful clothing she was still every inch the wild yet regal woman he'd saved the life of in Mereen. “Who did you recognise, Kili?”

 

Kili swallowed and met the Queen's gaze. “My brother, Your Highness.”

 

Daenerys' eyes widened a fraction, then narrowed, and both her and Sansa's gazes went to the single braid he wore amongst his otherwise loose hair. The braid was interwoven with a black raw-silk ribbon – a sign that he grieved for somebody. He'd expected to wear it forever.

 

“Your dead brother,” surmised Tyrion. “A happy accident, that he resurrects himself now, while you are installed here with power and the ear of the Queen?”

 

Kili bit back several curse-filled retorts to Tyrion's words, his Durin temper flaring at such an insults being cast on his brother. Tyrion didn't know Fili; he didn't know everything about that part of the North, not even Sansa did. If anybody else in court suddenly produced a brother from the dead, Tyrion would be asking the same question. It made political sense, but Kili had always hated politics and preferred a battle with his bow in his hand. Fili would say that the Old Gods were laughing at him, as Kili was now in such a political position.

 

“An accident of many kinds,” he managed to croak out. “He's been dead for years.”

 

His mouth closed and his mind whirled with all that he'd believed was true for years – no body was ever recovered but their uncle Thorin had proclaimed Fili dead, the reports being damning enough. It had been too long for hope to still survive. It was another reason why Kili was glad to be Daenerys' Queensguard Captain; living in the Lonely Mountain again would have only crowded him with agonising memories of Fili. He wouldn't have survived that.

 

Daenerys continued to look at him, waiting for his story to continue. He'd told her only a little before when they'd first begun to know each other in Mereen. Now she was his Queen, somebody he loved and respected, and had every right to know why her Captain kept silent on such a matter. She didn't know Fili, why would she trust him, when he'd been absent from his family for so long? Fresh aches bloomed in Kili.

 

“The Greyjoys took our land,” he spoke at last. “Our uncle fought in vain and sent Fili and I to gain favours and re-enforcements.”

 

“And to keep his heirs safe,” Sansa pointedly added, this part of the story being well-known.

 

Kili nodded. Uncle Thorin had more direct heirs, but if anything happened to him or to them, then the line of Durin would continue through his nephews, so Kili and Fili were smuggled out, to safety and to further the chances of their land returning to Durin hands. It had been a fine plan.

 

“The Greyjoys saw to it we were followed and ensured we were torn from each other, and dropped into the path of slavers eager to leave these shores.” Kili pressed his lips together; Daenerys knew what Mereen was like, what he had endured alone there. “I survived. It was believed that Fili had not, the ship he was on was wrecked and all its survivors worked to their deaths.”

 

“And now he seeks out the Queen,” Tyrion mused. “Or yourself perhaps, knowing your place at her side.”

 

Kili flinched; too many people believed he’d fucked Daenerys and that that was why he’d been garlanded with honour. Did Fili believe that? Didn’t he know that to Kili, as striking as Daenerys’ silvery beauty was, that as he much as he loved her, it was all so much shadow compared to Fili’s golden countenance?

 

In his uncle’s stretch of land, known as the Lonely Mountain, such love between brothers was almost commonplace. So tight were the bloodlines that most were related anyway. But here, incest had condemned Cersei Lannister. It had condemned her brother Jamie too, only there were stories that he’d escaped his so-called execution and had been spirited away by the Maid of Tarth to where sapphires were still plentiful. Kili doubted that; Jamie Lannister had killed Daenerys' father, the monarch mad or not, and the head on a spear outside looked a lot like Jamie Lannister to him.

 

Kili was known amongst the people now and the Queen might not allow any relationship between the brothers to flourish once more. Such a relationship without reprisals would bring whispers of corrupt favouritism, despite the fact that Daenerys was obvious in her affections for her nephew Jon Snow, who was currently at the Wall, overseeing its rebuilding despite no longer being part of the Night's Watch. But Daenerys was both Targaryen and the Queen; Kili was merely a lucky archer and a minor heir from the North.

 

He did not want to ask, to force the Queen’s hand by reminding her of the favour she'd pledged to him in Mereen. But the urge to do so was strong. The love he held for his brother overwhelmed even the strength of loyalty and love he felt for Daenerys. He felt as though he was at the edge of a precipice; for he would leave Daenerys’ court, deeply paining himself and the Queen, and likely damaging the strong alliance between the Houses of Targaryen and Durin. If it meant he could be with Fili again, he would do it.

 

Sansa picked at a plate of meats and bread, accepting the cup her husband passed her. She appeared remarkably calm as always; Tyrion claimed it would take more than court accusations about her maidenhead to rile his wife. She had faced down much worse and survived, thrived even. No wonder she and the Queen had become close.

 

“You would not stay if he could not,” Sansa spoke up suddenly, her Tully blue eyes piercing.

 

Kili could only nod; denying such a truth before these three would be a great foolishness. He dared not look at Tyrion though; for Tyrion never spoke of his brother and sister or their relationship, unless directly challenged to do so.

 

Daenerys murmured something in the language of her long-dead husband. It always sounded like scraping knives to Kili and reminded him of when he’d first met Daenerys, how she’d commanded her husband’s people so strongly, how she’d kept her word that he would be rewarded for saving her life when her guards did not. She was composed now, wearing the crown, possessing the Iron Throne, but the wildness of dragon fire still burned in her. The day it died would be the day that Kili left this place, or so he’d thought.

 

“You would leave for him?” Daenerys questioned at last, her own clear eyes bright and inquisitive and more than a little wounded.

 

Kili swallowed and licked his dry lips, forcing himself to voice what broke his heart to even think of. “I would, Your Highness. But only ever for him.”

 

He would not be more explicit unless ordered. Tyrion’s expression was surprisingly blank, for one who was usually so twisted with expression. He looked as though he was borrowing the mask that Sansa wore in court. Daenerys drank deeply from her cup of sweet wine and hummed lightly, a sign that she was thinking carefully and was comfortable enough to let them know this. In court, before most others in fact, she was always so still and composed.

 

“When I spoke to your uncle about you becoming my Queensguard Captain, he said firmly that you would cause no trouble in such a position as you wouldn't strain at its martial restrictions,” she said into the sharp silence.

 

Kili nodded. He could recognise that he was not being asked to speak; Daenerys was building to some precipice of her own.

 

“When I pressed to know the reason, he said that not entering into marriage would be a blessing for you, because no one would ever lessen the grief you hold for who you'd lost. You would marry if he or I asked it of you and you would give him heirs, but there would be no warmth. You would be as cold and unyielding as the Wall.”

 

Uncle Thorin had always been perceptive, it was one of many reasons why he was still head of the House of Durin, it was how he had held onto their spit of land for so long, until the sheer numbers and slyness of the Greyjoys had ousted him. He was proud, but he’d bent enough to ally with Daenerys, knowing he would gain his home again and that Kili’s bond with the Queen would allow his House needed privileges. Uncle Thorin knew all about the importance of strong practical alliances.

 

He had been married to Shala since Kili's eighth winter. Shala was one of Thorin's childhood friends and ran their vast household excellently. It had been a political match that suited both Northern families – it didn't allow any outsider power into the House of Durin. Thorin had hated the thought of marrying someone from outside the Mountain, until he had visited The Reach and encountered talented gardener and peripheral Tyrell court member Bilbo Baggins. As part of the trade agreement made with the Tyrells, Thorin requested that Bilbo Baggins become part of the House of Durin; they needed all the help they could get with their gardens and crops. The Tyrells naturally raised their own requests in response and once the Houses were agreed, Bilbo was sent to the Mountain, to transform the strange Northern gardens and to continue intriguing Thorin Oakenshield.

 

Thorin and Bilbo had been lovers since the sixth month of Bilbo's arrival in the North. Bilbo had made Thorin work for it, much to everybody's amusement, including his wife's. Shala and Bilbo were friends, often spending time together in gardens that Bilbo continued to work hard on. Shala had no quarrel with her husband's love; she had provided the House of Durin with heirs – a set of twins who were already learning how to wield swords - and she had no lust in her heart for her husband. Her lover, Mariya, was always beside her, guarding her with a proud fierceness. Mariya had been the one to teach Fili how to hold a dagger correctly.

 

Some who visited found it odd that Shala was guarded by a woman who Thorin treated like a knight. But all who lived on the Mountain vehemently protected their leader and his family. Thorin and Shala's marriage was strong and their secret partners made them stronger. So only once had Thorin asked Kili and Fili if they were sure it was not a mere young fancy between them that would fade. When they had both replied strong in their convictions, he had smiled and said that Durins always found a way to hold tight to their happiness, that the Old Gods would provide. The House of Durin always survived, in some form or another.

 

So then why did Kili feel as though he was now dealing it a hammer blow it would not recover from?

 

His face must have expressed his agony, because Sansa spoke again consideringly. “At the Lonely Mountain, it is so common that it is merely something else that the rest of the North hems them in with – those that live under the rule of Thorin are bred for discontent and battle, and they love without law or etiquette.”

 

At that point Sansa's face twisted in something like apology, it was startlingly genuine, unlike the soothing words she used to calm angry visitors in court. Kili had the sudden thought that he was seeing a true part of Sansa from before everything. The Gods knew, he'd heard the stories.

 

He was honoured but there was no need for apologies, Sansa was entirely correct. Thorin's people were best suited for battle and were still seen as the most formidable of foot soldiers, despite their comparatively small numbers now. And love between those who shared blood was much more usual than bedding somebody you were no relation of. The other Northerners often spat insults at the Mountain folk, sneering at their small numbers and the way they chose to wed. There was less sneering now, but still the same insults. Nothing would change that, just as nothing would change the bond between Kili and his brother. At least he hoped that remained true.

 

“We still don't know if your brother is mad or turned against the Targaryen rule,” Tyrion pointed out.

 

“Would you know?” added Sansa, skilfully picking up the thread her husband had begun unwinding. “If your brother lied, or tried to turn you from your path here, would you know? And would you tell us?”

 

Kili’s expression puckered painfully; he wanted to say that Fili would not be against the Queen, that he would not form some plot to oust her or attempt to turn Kili. But he had not known Fili for many years, his mind bitterly reminded him, and Fili did not know the Queen. Perhaps he had found another House he believed should have the throne. Perhaps his mind was not his own anymore.

 

“I would know,” Kili replied. “It's been years, but some things cannot be changed. And I would not see you harmed, Your Highness.”

 

“Even by your brother?” Tyrion pushed.

 

Kili clenched his teeth, flooded by images of his brother dying by execution for all to see. Traitors usually died in such a way, unless true repentance was shown and other uses were found for them. Kili had always advocated for all who threatened the Queen to be put to death, he had not been quiet about it. Would he force that punishment on his own beloved brother? The thought sickened him.

 

“I would hope never to,” he admitted, because the answer was clear in his face and body anyway. “I would hope to call on our uncle first and try to grasp Fili back. But if he tried to kill the Queen, I...I would not let him.”

 

It was all he could promise and Daenerys did not seem offended, only sad behind her eyes. She had had a brother too, Kili remembered, one she never spoke of, one who would have been king and who, it was whispered, had been as mad as their father. In fact, Sansa and Tyrion too had siblings lost to them, perhaps that was where all thoughts in the room now lay. Kili's thoughts were certainly with his brother, locked in the dungeon. What was Fili thinking about?

 

“We must know their plans before the last dies,” Tyrion said at last. “As his brother, you are likely to draw the most from him, by design or otherwise.”

 

“We will let it be known that a relative of Durin's line has been brought here,” offered Sansa. “And that you are questioning him, seeking any information he has grasped of rebellion.”

 

It was a neat set-up and would account for Kili's behaviour in court that day. When Daenerys inclined her head in agreement, Kili nodded his in thanks. The Queen was wearing a familiar look though, one that said he would be telling her much more soon. The Queen could demand, and be given, all that she wished for, and Kili had not refused her yet. He had punished and killed in her name, and would do so again many times.

 

“Speak with your love, Kili,” she said, quiet but strong. “He will be brought to your quarters this night. Tomorrow, you will tell me of his heart and mind. If both are strong, I will see him.”

 

Tyrion and Sansa remained silent; they would likely be nearby anyway, to cast their own opinions on Fili.

 

“We won't send a raven to the Mountain yet,” Tyrion spoke.

 

Kili nodded gratefully; his mother and Thorin would likely rush here to see Fili, regardless of what his fate was. Not even Bilbo would be able to prevent them from saying what should never be said to a Queen. Until the news was solid, the Durins were better off knowing nothing.

 

“Keep guards at your door,” the Queen commanded.

 

There was a shade of worry carefully hidden in her eyes, even now. Because Kili had seen her greatly undone upon their first meeting and as close as they now were, she could not allow too many to see that side of her. He understood, though it pained him to see her cage herself, and he was warmed by her concern. The Queen could not be seen to favour or care too much for individuals or certain Houses; her first love should always be her kingdom.

 

Kili ate quickly after that and Tyrion escorted him to the nearby door to his quarters, the Queen and Sansa remaining behind for a private talk together.

 

“You will be greatly discussed this night,” Tyrion told him.

 

“Don’t worry; I'm not honoured by such attention.”

 

Tyrion's mouth laughed and he looked at Kili with clever eyes in a ravaged face. “If your brother has eyes and tongue as sharp as yours, it will be a boon of some form or another. Does he have your talent with the bow?”

 

Kili laughed quietly, remembering well how much Fili had cursed during archery lessons. He had never been natural with arrows. “Alas, no. But he's swifter with a pair of knives than most on the Mountain.”

 

“I should imagine he's swifter at your side,” replied Tyrion, a knowing gleam to his eyes.

 

Kili didn’t give voice to memories of standing back-to-back with Fili, their knives moving in flashing circles of light, his arrows flying true as they responded to each other’s movement and voice. Even now, commanding the skilled ranks of the Queensguard, Kili had found none who matched him in combat as well as Fili. Together, they could strike well for the Queen.

 

“I imagine so,” was all Kili offered.

 

“A miracle, he can be taught,” Tyrion turned to leave. “Watch your back, young Durin. I’m told winter is coming.”

 

A chill worked down Kili’s spine; he knew Sansa well enough to know the warning her family’s motto could be. He knew not to linger either, there were too many eyes about. He signalled to his fellow Queensguards to watch his door and taking a deep breath, entered his quarters.

 

*

 

A large wooden tub was carried in shortly after Kili entered. Several serving girls filled it with warm water as trays of food were laid out on the table, simple fare that wouldn't sicken somebody who hadn't eaten well lately. Kili's chest felt hollow, his heart had been ripped from him years ago, when he had seen Fili being dragged away from him. Now, he wasn't sure whether to let it grow back again, for Fili might tear it out himself this time. Kili closed his eyes and dragged in a breath; his brother might be returned to him in body only.

 

Before such thoughts could consume him, there was a hearty knock at the door. At Kili's word, two Queensguards dragged a half-unconscious Fili in and dropped him uncaringly onto the floor. Fili didn't make a sound, Kili's stomach clenched. He nodded at his friends.

 

“You'll know if I need assistance.”

 

Dismissal was clear in his voice and the Queensguard left without a word. Kili's delight in dealing with traitors was well-known so it was almost expected for him to request a prisoner to interrogate. As much as he hated to, Kili kept his dagger on his belt. Whatever thumped in his chest now was heavy. For several silent minutes, Kili drank in the sight of his brother sprawled on his chamber floor – dirty and weak, but definitely his brother.

 

Kili took a step forward, Fili didn't move. Another step, still no movement. When he came within touching distance, Kili crouched down on one knee and his hand hovered over his brother's shoulder. His brother.

 

Kili swallowed past whatever was clogging his throat and rasped. “Fili?”

 

There was a twitch, Fili's head moved, as though shaking away a sleeping thought. Kili's voice was stronger when he spoke again. “Fili.”

 

Fili jerked again and raised his head. Kili's breath caught at being face to face with his brother. His hand drifted to Fili's cheek, but didn't touch. Fili looked at him dully.

 

“Why do you torture me, brother?” he asked quiet and plaintive. “Why can't you give me a night alone?”

 

Kili's breath shuddered and he felt as though he would soon join his brother on the floor, crumpled by a weight of grief and pain. Was his brother mad? What was he seeing? Was he really so upset at seeing Kili again?

 

“I'm here, Fili,” he said, hoarsely. “I won't leave you again.”

 

“You never leave me,” spat his brother. “Every night, you visit, and every morning, you leave. The pain is too much, Kili. Leave me and do not return!”

 

Kili's mouth fell open, some relief coursing through him. His brother thought he was dreaming, and it seemed he had been dreaming of Kili for many nights. Kili felt heady with the knowledge; his brother still ached for him and like Kili, felt the pain of their parting still.

 

Kili inched closer, desperate to touch now, to shake his brother free of waking dreams and to hold him tight. “You do not dream, brother. I am here, truly.”

 

Fili snorted. “So you say. Yet when I wake, nothing of you remains but the pain in my heart.”

 

Without any more hesitation, Kili dropped his hand to his brother's shoulder, hoping to prove the truth of his own words. He revelled in the feel of his brother, the heat of his skin through the thin shirt. He stroked a shaking hand down Fili's arm and leaned in, gladdened to feel his brother's breath once more and to smell the faint salty odour that all who lived for years on the Lonely Mountain carried with them. Beneath the dirt and despair, Fili was present. A spark lit in Kili's chest; his brother only had to realise that Kili was present too.

 

“Have you bathed? When we have met before?” he tried.

 

Fili's mouth twitched in something that could have been a smile. “There never seems to be time, brother.”

 

Kili tried to sound cheerful. “Well, I proclaim there is time now. The tub is already full.”

 

Perhaps a dunking would awaken Fili. Fili looked interested in a bath; it had clearly been a long time since he had soaked, his skin was so encrusted. Kili's limbs felt clumsy as he held his brother up and aided him in stripping free of his filthy clothing. Kili’s pulse quickened at finding the dagger his brother had always carried still hidden in his boot, as well as several other blades, but Fili did not insist on keeping his weapons close as he should. He seemed too quiet, too sad, and it broke Kili a little more to see such a hopeless look on his brother's face. Fili didn't reach for him; his experience of dreams of Kili melting away in the light of morning pained him too much for that. A similar ache filled Kili, because his brother was with him, but not.

 

Fili climbed into the tub and listlessly scrubbed at his body with hard soap. Kili watched the familiar colour of his brother's pale skin begin to show through, and the gold of his hair begin to become brighter as Fili ducked under the water and worked through the knots. Kili could only watch, breathlessly. He thrummed with opposing thoughts – was this a trick to beguile him before Fili went in for the kill? Would Fili suddenly light up and explain what plans he had, why he had sought out the Queen? Or would he continue to look through Kili instead?

 

Fili didn't say a word; clearly still convinced he was asleep. With a heaviness inside, Kili helped him out of the tub and into what dry clothes of his own would fit his brother's slightly thicker form. He ached to card his fingers through Fili's hair, to rebraid what had become knotted. His fingers brushed the black bead that still adorned part of Fili's plaited beard, causing Fili to suddenly lurch away from the touch, a welcome fire in his eyes.

 

“You've taken too much already, brother, you cannot have this!” he hissed.

 

Kili forced the rolling tide of despair inside of him to stay silent and coaxed his brother into eating hard bread and salted meat. The kitchen had provided a little of what Kili enjoyed eating, food that faintly reminded him of what was consumed on the Mountain. Fili ate, because he was not a fool. When you were provided with food on the Mountain, you ate it because you could never be sure if trade agreements would be honoured and the land would be supplied with what it desperately needed. Thorin had always been paranoid and that furtive way of living had been bred into his subjects, especially his kin.

 

All too soon, Fili stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes, refusing to look at Kili, clearly believing he’d wake up again soon and that he'd do so alone. Kili couldn’t take his eyes off his brother. Fili was actually there, with flashes of his old self showing through like gold in dirt. Perhaps sleeping and then waking up again would convince him of Kili’s presence. A ghost of a smile floated across Kili’s face; it was the sort of abstract musing that Gandalf would have offered. An old friend of Thorin’s, Gandalf was a traveller without roots who had somehow survived the war without injury or imprisonment, despite quietly siding with the House of Durin. He claimed to be from a Northern island nobody had heard of, a fact that few believed, though Kili was unnerved by the look in Gandalf’s eyes sometimes.

 

Fili was behaving as though, like Kili, he too had had his heart removed.

 

What would Kili do if Fili awoke in the morning with the same dull look in his eyes? If he continued to labour under the same despairing grief that Kili was a ghost haunting him? Kili would talk to the maesters, to the healers and the priests. He would do all he could before he told Daenerys that his brother was hollow and needed to go to the Mountain, where perhaps he might eventually be coaxed back to himself. Kili's heart broke anew at such a thought.

 

He hid Fili’s weaponry, in case his brother woke confused and bloodthirsty, before stripping down to his smallclothes and hunching down to sleep at Fili’s side. They had shared a bed for so many years; it had taken several difficult months for Kili to begin to learn how to sleep alone without his brother’s touch. He couldn’t touch Fili now, his touch caused Fili to flinch. Such a thought made Kili breathless with grieving pain.

 

“Sleep, brother,” was all he could whisper helplessly. “And awaken soon.”

 

Then he watched his brother’s back and counted his brother’s shallow breaths until he broke his self-imposed vow to stay awake all night as a fitful sort of sleep took him prisoner instead.


	2. Chapter 2

Kili awoke to find his own blade pressed to his throat. Fili sat astride him, eyes wild and muscles tense. Kili’s heart leapt, refusing to stay gone in Fili’s presence and recognising that Fili was back to something of himself. Kili recognised the look on his brother’s face – Fili was furious.

 

“What are you?” Fili hissed menacingly.

 

Did Fili still believe he dreamed? Or had he woken to find his dream lying beside him, and so refusing to believe it, saw the work of things that crept and slithered beyond the Wall?

 

Kili didn’t touch him, sensing this would only make Fili wilder. “Your brother.”

 

Fili’s laugh was awful. “My brother died by slaver hands and Greyjoy malice. Why do you wear his face?”

 

Fili was truly awake, Kili’s heart leapt again. His brother was truly present, looking so vital and strong. Thank the Gods. Now Kili only had to hold himself back, despite all urges to do the opposite, and convince Fili not to kill him.

 

“Truly, it’s me, Fili. I thought you dead from shipwreck or slavery. I grieved for you as I was shit on in Mereen. Look!” Kili gestured to the black ribbon still braided into his hair. “I have worn this ever since we were parted.”

 

Fili paled considerably and his free hand touched the silken scrap that intertwined with Kili’s hair. The pressure of the blade eased but Kili still did not move. He needed for Fili to trust him, to trust what was before his eyes at last, to trust in this miracle. Gods, he needed...

 

Fili’s shocked gaze refocused on Kili’s face, truly taking him in. “You never braided your hair. I would never imagine you wearing braids, nor would any looking to imitate you.”

 

Kili nodded slowly in agreement. Did Fili see how Kili had aged during their separation? Did he see the pain that had marked Kili’s skin? Fili’s now-shaking hand touched Kili’s face, the shape of his jaw, the rasp of his stubble, the bow of his lips. Kili could not help the noise that escaped him at such attention, he had dreamed of Fili as often as Fili had apparently dreamed of him. To feel his brother’s touch again made him want to cry out.

 

Fili bent closer, the blade finally leaving Kili’s throat, and took in a deep breath. It was a good plan, for the smell that lingered on those that lived on the Lonely Mountain was unique. It was bone-deep, salt and Durin metals and that hint of fatty meats that were so often cooked in the kitchens. It was home, and it was them.

 

Fili reared back, his expression wild and hungry and desperate. He stared at Kili for a breathless moment, then he violently flung the dagger away and swooped down to throw his arms around his brother. Kili choked, he didn’t try to form words. It was enough to hold Fili, to hear his heartbeat, and know that his brother was in his arms once more.

 

“Fili,” he whispered into his brother’s skin. “If we dream, we dream the same thing.”

 

Fili pressed kisses to Kili’s neck and jaw, stopping short of his mouth. Instead he brushed a hand through Kili’s hair, then smoothed fingers down his face. Kili closed his eyes at the touch, at knowing those were his brother’s fingers exploring such familiar territory. Fili tugged him up so that they sat with arms locked around each other, face to face. Kili’s heartbeat was a wild reckless thing – he had his brother back, whoever tried to tear his heart from him now would not escape with life intact.

 

“The rumours abounded of your death,” Fili said hoarsely, unwilling to let go just yet. “When those of us who survived the wreck reached shore, we were told you had all fallen to Lannister soldiers.”

 

Kili shook his head, thinking of the Lannister he had come to call friend. “And we were told of your death, that all who survived the wreck died in slavery.”

 

Something glinted in Fili’s eyes, a glimmer of the thrill of the hunt and of finishing those who deserved the sword. “Strange we should both hear such stories.”

 

A chill flooded through Kili and he realised quickly what conclusion Fili had reached. How truly great it was to have back the one person whose thoughts he could follow intimately and without question, knowing the same was true in return. “The Greyjoys’ malice.”

 

Fili nodded. “What better way to cripple the House of Durin than to split those who are two halves of a whole?”

 

Kili grimaced; it was a clever strategy indeed. All on the Mountain, and those with keen interest in breaking it, knew of the closeness between the brothers, and the strength and glory they found together. If they were dragged leagues from the Mountain, they could be killed without Durin interference or if they somehow escaped death in a distant land, they could be convinced that the other had perished, and so would likely become weak shadows of their former selves. And surely at the disappearance of both nephews, Thorin would focus on finding them; perhaps he'd even stop attempting to retake his home. It had worked – the Greyjoys had held onto Thorin's land, and its great access to the sea, for many years.

 

But they hadn’t counted on Bilbo and the strength he gave to Thorin, nor on Mariya and how she lifted Shala. Together, the secret family had plotted, had kept each other strong and determined and not always clouded with rage, and had done their best to keep their people safe. And Kili had saved the life of a beautiful young woman who had claimed to be a Queen. The Greyjoys hadn’t counted on that either.

 

Kili rested his forehead against his brother’s; he felt drained and it was only the morning. How could he face the day when he wanted to pull his brother down for more touch and reassurance? Yet being in bed together made the situation feel more like a dream. It was only once they stepped out into the cold world beyond that everything would once again become real, and for all the soft delight of clinging to each other, Kili found he was eager to have Fili be part of his world once more.

 

A hammering knock at the door startled them both and Fili tried to push Kili behind him, fumbling for the dagger he'd discarded. Kili pressed a reassuring hand to his brother and called out to whoever was trying to rouse him.

 

“What is it?”

 

“The Queen commands your presence, sir.”

 

“Tell her she won’t be kept waiting.”

 

There was silence as the messenger walked away and Fili seemed to realise, for the first time, that he was in a strange room. He looked around, no doubt noticing the size and richness of his unknown surroundings.

 

“Kili, where have we woken?”

 

Kili laughed; this would be a story to tell. He coaxed his brother out of bed and into clothing, and told him tales of Daenerys Targaryen and all the changes she had caused in the House of Durin, all because Kili had let an arrow fly as true as he always did.

 

“Captain of the Queensguard,” Fili breathed in astonishment. “Brother...”

 

Kili motioned to the white cape slung carelessly over a nearby chair, the greatest indicator of the truth of his words. He felt almost drunk; due to the way Fili looked at him with such love and the way Fili touched him, as though he'd surely perish without such contact. Kili felt the same; as always, their hearts beat as one.

 

But things had to be said before they spoke before the Queen. Kili steeled himself.

 

“Tyrion will ask you questions, designed to wound your pride and push your patience.”

 

“Because more truth is revealed in anger than in pleasantries,” Fili guessed acceptingly.

 

He had always had more of a head for politics than Kili. Kili nodded; glad his brother saw Tyrion’s logic.

 

“He claims you could have designs on the Iron Throne, on removing the Queen from it. You could work for another House.”

 

It hurt Kili to say such things to his brother, but he would rather say them first before Tyrion or any other court member could throw such accusations. Fili looked at him for a breathless moment, then cupped his brother's face, drawing them close once more.

 

“I came looking for the Queen because I heard that the House of Durin was aligned with the Targaryens. What other way could I reach home? None would give me passage on any ship for free, laughing at my story of who I was and what I could give them in return once home again. If the Queen truly was in alliance with our Uncle, then perhaps word of my presence in court would reach him and he would bring me home,” Fili's smile flickered sharply. “Of course, I was exhausted and starving and became distracted; convinced I was mad when I saw you beside the Queen.”

 

Kili leaned into his brother's touch. He hoped fiercely that Tyrion would see truth in Fili's story. Kili could see only truth in his brother, truth and weariness and such deep pain from their separation. Fili pressed a gentle kiss to his brother's mouth. It was almost chaste, until Kili's tongue traced Fili's lips and Fili whimpered and crushed Kili to him. Too long, they had gone without the taste of each other. Fili bit Kili's bottom lip and lapped up the blood that pearled there.

 

“Durin blood.”

 

Kili nuzzled against him, and spoke the strange language of the Mountain, letting loose the Durin motto. _“Beneath our feet.”_

 

He could feel Fili hardening against him. Gods, fire threaded through him in response, rushing to heat parts he thought dead and cold forever. But Kili could not banish the thought that the Queen was waiting for them. With a terrible moan, he tore himself from Fili, who looked as wide-eyed with desperate wonder and hunger as Kili felt.

 

“The Queen waits,” Kili explained shakily, not wishing Fili to think this was rejection.

 

Fili managed to nod, but brushed fingers against Kili's black ribbon braid. “You found no other?”

 

Kili laughed, the very idea was absurd. “I did not even look.”

 

Fili growled and kissed him fiercely, while deft fingers unplaited the braid and tied the ribbon around Kili's wrist instead. A death had proved false and a heart was reclaimed.

 

Kili dragged his brother's busy hand to lie on his chest, to feel the heartbeat that now pounded there. Kili had been sure that such a reaction was lost to him for good. “Always yours, brother.”

 

“Always.”

 

Kili's fingers slid up and began untangling the mass of matted braids that Fili currently displayed. “This is not fit for an audience with a Queen.”

 

“As long as I kept the braids that showed me as Durin's line and this bead, I did not care,” Fili flipped a finger against the black bead in his beard. “It was the last one you braided in for me.”

 

Kili remembered; it'd been another night hunkered down together in the cold and damp, ears always listening for those looking to root them out of the North forever. Beside a dead fire, Kili had rebraided Fili's beard, adding that bead. Then they had fucked in ashes and moonlight.

 

Kili swallowed down the arousal that threatened to distract him and anger the Queen. Gods, it was difficult. He’d been dreaming of bedding his brother since the last time they’d lain together. And here was a chance, a delicious miracle that Kili wished to feast on for many hours. But whilst the war might be over, guarding Daenerys as she maintained Targaryen rule in the midst of rebuilding Westeros ate up nearly all of his time. Before now, he’d had nothing else to compete with it.

 

He grasped Fili’s hand and kissed the fingers. “The Queen knows of how we value each other.”

 

Fili looked unsure, holding tight to his brother. “And she has complaints? Threats? Is that why she asks for you?”

 

“The Queensguard do not marry,” Kili reminded him. “And those who live on the Mountain are expected to fuck their family. Also the Queen pines for her nephew, Jon Snow.”

 

Fili laughed in disbelief. “Stark’s bastard? How did he become Targaryen?”

 

“Blood outed his true birth,” Kili grinned. “Now he rides a dragon and sees to repairs of the Wall while Daenerys yearns for his return.”

 

Fili kissed Kili again, a hand fisting in Kili’s hair. “I understand well her pining. But will she part us, brother?”

 

Kili shook his head helplessly, his chest hurting at the very thought. “I do not know. Last night she only told me that she wished to hear if your mind was right and if you held loyalty to her enemies. She doesn’t know you yet.”

 

He didn’t say that if Fili’s story wasn’t believed, then nothing would stop justice from being carried out, not even Kili and Thorin’s tears and rage. Fili read it well in his face though and lightly kissed him in understanding. Thorin would no doubt have been as guarded as Daenerys if a long-dead relative of his household suddenly appeared.

 

“Then I will have to convince her of my truth.”

 

Kili nodded and gripped a handful of Fili’s clothing tight, keeping them anchored. “I’ll not lose you again, brother. If the decision falls against you, we leave together.”

 

Fili pressed their heads together and didn’t try to talk him out of it. They were together, and not even a Queen could part them now, even if the thought of leaving Daenerys tore at Kili and caused him both terrible grief and great fear for her safety. Life without her presence was a deeply-painful stomach-churning idea, but life without Fili at his side now that they were reunited once more was even worse, the only thing that could be.

 

Aware of Daenerys’ no-doubt edging patience, he quickly donned his fine uniform and white cloak. As he combed his hair, he turned to catch Fili’s bemused expression.

 

“My brother, the Queensguard Captain.” Fili shook his head in disbelief. “Lofty, brother, for one who once claimed he’d never leave the Mountain.”

 

Kili made a face, strapped his dagger on, and picked up his fine bow. He rarely needed to use it inside, but the story of how he’d saved Daenerys’ life was known and sometimes he was called to demonstrate his skill, sometimes on those who were receiving justice.

 

He glanced at Fili; his brother looked cleaner now and whilst the clothes were not fine enough for court, they were acceptable when he had no others. If he stayed, finer quality clothing would be made for him. Kili’s heart swelled at the thought of Fili back in Durin colours, in steel grey and black.

 

“Red, black, grey…” Fili looked him up and down strangely, as always seeming to match Kili’s thoughts. “You wear Targaryen and Durin colours.”

 

“I serve her,” Kili answered the unasked question. “Not just because our Houses ally, I’d kill any who’d attempt to wrest her from the throne.”

 

Fili nodded slowly. “Then she will have to convince me she is deserving of your loyalty also.”

 

Kili laughed, at the idea of Fili and Daenerys facing each other down, each trying to discern if the other was worthy and true in their devotion and loyalty. His mother would say he was deserving of such attention. Thorin and Bilbo would agree, even if some in the House would laugh at such a situation.

 

“Come, brother, before the Queen sends her dragon to fetch us.”

 

*

 

Two of the Queensguard escorted them to the private room where Daenerys waited for them. Kili introduced Fili simply as his kin. Mychal, pale and Tyrell with long red hair, and Rickard, who hailed from the North and loved dice too much, both nodded and didn’t comment.

 

Fili walked beside his brother, no part of them touching. Without being told, Fili behaved as though they weren’t lovers desiring always more touch of each other, especially after so long apart. When they were next alone, or maybe with Tyrion, Kili would tell his brother about the eyes around every corner and how not all who worked here had loyalty to the Queen in their hearts. On the Lonely Mountain, there were only ever small pockets of conspirators who were rooted out by whoever Dwalin pulled in for the hunt. He took special pleasure in finding those who dared to plot against Thorin.

 

Kili smiled to himself and began to talk. “Around here, they say I fuck Daenerys, don’t they, Mychal?”

 

Mychal’s smile was small. Kili liked and trusted him, because he’d seen Mychal throw himself in front of a sword meant for Daenerys, but he sometimes spoke as though Mychal was a barely-tolerated enemy. It had rooted turncoats out before. Mychal knew the game well.

 

“They do, sir, frequently.”

 

Fili laughed. “Sex doesn’t buy loyalty in the North.”

 

“We’re not in the North.”

 

They both laughed, their eyes shining with secrets. Fili raised his eyebrows in a way that said he saw what Kili had written between the lines – people talked of Kili, believing he only had his position because he played the dog for Daenerys. Good, Kili knew that once news of Fili’s presence spread, many inside and outside these walls would try to use him as a way in, for many things. And turning his head to their cause with talk of the brother he hadn’t known for years would seem so easy to them. Only they didn’t know what truly lay between Kili and Fili.

 

“Of course now you're here we're both fucking her.”

 

“Of course.”

 

There was a not-very-muffled laugh from Rickard just as they reached the door behind which Daenerys waited. Kili turned with a smile to his fellow Queensguards.

 

“Keep watch, lads.”

 

Mychal and Rickard he trusted maybe most of all the Queensguard, because he'd seen that they weren't looking to use what they learned at Daenerys' side for their own elevations. They cared for their Houses of course, but they were loyal to the Queen above all. It was no falsity for them. If Fili stayed, Kili would tell these two friends enough of the truth. It was what those on the Lonely Mountain already knew; that Kili and Fili loved each other before any other, and that to be parted was truly intolerable. The House of Durin was witness to that.

 

Kili knocked on the door, and upon Daenerys' command to enter, exchanged a heavy glance with his brother. As they walked in, their hands brushed. Whatever happened, they stood together, even before a possibly furious Queen.


	3. Chapter 3

The room was warm – Daenerys glowed amongst heat and fire – and Sansa was smiling beside the Queen. It appeared as though Tyrion had just uttered something to make them laugh, and he himself wore a fond amused look as he gazed at his lady wife. That look shifted into something altogether archer when he saw the brothers approach. Kili nodded at him in greeting, a gesture Tyrion returned though the smirk on his face remained. His eyes fixed themselves to Fili, Kili tried not to tense. Fili's hand brushed his again.

 

Daenerys watched them both keenly. She wore a silver and blue gown, revealing more of her arms than was proper, and she fairly glowed with her usual impossible beauty. Sansa wore the red and gold of her husband's House, red that also spoke of her link to the Queen, yet she seemed as cool as the Northern hills. Tyrion had claimed once that winter was in his wife's bones; Kili had seen nothing to contradict such a notion.

 

He cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Your Highness, I present my brother, Fili Durin, son of Dis and Stird, nephew of Thorin Oakenshield.”

 

“Thought long dead, now alive?” suggested Tyrion. “Few others have such a title. I'd use it if I were you.”

 

Kili smiled. “And this is the Queen's Hand, Tyrion Lannister and his wife Lady Sansa of the House of Stark.”

 

Sansa inclined her head, while Tyrion merely continued to watch. Daenerys looked only at Fili, weighing him no doubt. Fili looked right back and spoke.

 

“Your Highness, thank you, for all you've done for my House, my family, and always for my brother.”

 

It wasn't correct protocol – he should have waited for the Queen to speak first – but Daenerys nodded in acceptance and looked towards Kili.

 

“You believe his mind is his own?”

 

“He thought himself dreaming at first, as did we both. Then he truly slept and upon waking, believed me an enchantment of some kind.” Kili held up his wrist, displaying the black ribbon there. “But when he saw this, we were truly reunited.”

 

Fili looked at him, as though he wished to slide eager arms around Kili and take his mouth, but instead their sides merely collided and their lips smiled. Tyrion made an amused noise.

 

“Well, there’s no doubting the flame between them. Even the half-blind kitchen boy would see it.”

 

Daenerys kept her smiles hidden though. “This flame, it still burns brightest above all to you?”

 

Fili’s eyebrow shot up, clearly wondering what stories the Queen had heard. Kili would later tell him things that he had not told another soul – of Mereen where Daenerys had told him that most would assume he now bedded her as reward for his deeds, how he’d replied he’d be no use in her bed as the one who had his heart was lost, how the look in her eyes had said how deeply she’d understood. How they’d never spoken of it again.

 

But Kili would speak of it to Fili, just as he would speak of his brother to the Queen.

 

“It does,” Fili replied. “And when I was told he was lost, every part of me fell to darkness.”

 

Kili curled his littlest finger around Fili’s as Sansa spoke sharply. “You were told your brother was dead?”

 

“As he was told of your demise. What a coincidence,” Tyrion mused. “Some Northern games were being played, I assume?”

 

Kili nodded. “We think the scheme lies with the Greyjoys; they were who drove us apart and sold us to slavers. It would be no difficult feat to ensure we were both informed of the other’s death, and for our uncle to hear we’d both perished.”

 

“And so amid all the grief and loss, the House of Durin would lessen their efforts for the Mountain and the Greyjoys would retain the seat,” Tyrion filled in the blanks. “No proof of course, just the bitter words of two dead men against a family who drove out and slaughtered their people.”

 

“The Greyjoys will claim they only wanted and took the Mountain,” Sansa added, her thoughts following her husband’s.

 

Daenerys fixed her eyes on Kili. “You believe him.”

 

It wasn’t a question; they knew each other too well for that. Kili nodded slowly, keeping a grip on his brother’s hand. This was the crux.

 

“I may be a fool to do so, but I know him, Your Majesty. Despite years spent apart; he cannot hide the truth from me. He came here seeking you in order to gain passage home. He had no money, no ship would take him, and he knew of the Targaryen pact with the House of Durin.”

 

“I thought it was the closest I would ever be to him again,” Fili voiced softly, his eyes clouded with pained memories.

 

Kili leaned into him and dared to press his forehead to Fili’s temple, giving and taking strength. They shouldn’t hide before the Queen anyway, she needed to see proof of them, of why Kili believed and why Fili had sought her out. Fili breath was hot on his brother’s face and Kili longed to taste it. He closed his eyes for a moment and savoured his brother.

 

When he opened his eyes again, Daenerys’ eyes were filled with the same pain that Fili had displayed and Kili thought of the stories she’d told him one dark night, of her strong first husband and of Ser Mormont and all the pain and loss that she still held in her heart. If Kili was able to bring either back to her, he would. He’d pull down the veil of heaven.

 

Daenerys’ smile was her rare one, filled with bittersweet joy. “You will get trialled time here, until next the moon fills. Prove your words, your love, and your presence is welcome.”

 

Kili let out a deep heavy breath and lent more weight onto Fili, feeling helpless and weak in his relief. He felt little shame in his friends witnessing him like this – Daenerys had seen him worse and Tyrion and Sansa needed to see the truth of him and Fili. Fili wrapped glad arms around him briefly, his lips brushing Kili’s cheek, before he turned and bowed formally to the Queen.

 

“A thousand thanks, Your Majesty. Yet even that is too small to truly express my gratitude.”

 

Daenerys smile grew a little and Kili was warmed to see the light of his brother touching the Queen. He wanted them to see what he saw and loved in them both, the brightness and the glory.

 

“So now the question remains of what you will do,” Tyrion pointed out. “There’s no room on the Queensguard for another Durin, not yet anyway.”

 

Kili licked his lips, his heart trembling. “If Fili’s kinship with me is known, people with motive will see opportunity to gain leverage and entrance to court. They’ll believe they can become privy to secrets known only to the Captain of the Queensguard.”

 

Sansa’s smile was quick and vicious. “A hawk amongst the hawks. Have any approached you yet?”

 

Fili shook his head. “I’ve not been without Kili’s company since I was taken from the dungeon. Perhaps I could wander the castle as a guest, as if contentedly waiting for our Uncle to travel and collect me. I would speak only of my gladness to be with my brother again, voice the fact that I do not know the Queen.”

 

“Ah, but do not ask questions about her,” Tyrion warned. “Those that ask about the Iron Throne are suspected of many things. You will have to play the glorious fool for this to work, so glad to be with family once more, knowing nothing of the South or royal politics. The Mountain is believed to be a savage and insular place after all.”

 

“Apt,” both Kili and Fili replied and grinned at each other.

 

Tyrion rolled his eyes. “Oh, I can foresee no irritation forthcoming from such moments.”

 

“You will to it tomorrow?” Daenerys asked, though it was truly more of a challenge than a question.

 

Fili smiled, bright and big, and nodded. “An honour to serve, Your Highness.”

 

Daenerys smiled in reply and her expression flicked to Kili, giving him the tiniest nod. It seemed she was pleased so far, though was likely truly reserving judgement until Fili had proved himself. It was enough for now. Kili let all gratitude show in his eyes.

 

“Naturally you’ll be told that your brother fucks the Queen,” Tyrion told Fili. “And as your relationship with Kili will be suspected anyway, some who slip poison in your ear will expect you to be jealous and pried away from him thanks to such rumours.”

 

It would definitely be a weapon used to gain Fili for agendas against the Queen. Kili nodded, seeing Fili do the same.

 

“Our closeness...”

 

“Keep your cocks out of each other whenever you can be seen,” Tyrion neatly answered all questions. “And your closeness remains until the Queen says otherwise.”

 

“The Queensguard cannot marry.” Sansa wore a ghost of a smile. “You gain no power, no foothold, by sharing chambers. It will be expected, and only spoken of in court by those jealous of the House of Durin's position here.”

 

“The ruse of my foolishness will only last so long, once the hawks begin to fall. What happens to me then?” Fili dared to ask.

 

Kili kept close to him and watched the Queen. He felt as though he should apologise, for regaining what she could not. But Daenerys did not shake, she watched with keen interest, a mother dragon instead of a hawk. Kili always felt warmed by her gaze.

 

“If you prove true, there will be a place here for you,” she uttered. “You do not wish to return to the Mountain?”

 

Fili paused, his expression wistful, and Kili followed his thoughts to snowy vistas and icy sea shores, their mother's eyes and their uncle's laughter. It'd been too long since either of them had heard or seen such sights. Kili felt a deep pang in his heart; home had been by Daenerys’ side for so long now, he had not returned to the Mountain once since taking the white cloak. Where now was home but being by the sides of those he loved most?

 

“When my brother returns there, I will also,” Fili said softly, his fingers warm against Kili’s.

 

“Your Uncle will expect you home.”

 

“My Uncle will not. And no matter how much he chafes at the thought of bowing to the South, he is at your command, as am I.”

 

Tyrion laughed. “You’re right, young Durin, he is better at this than you.”

 

Fili grinned and accepted the nudge that Kili sent into his ribs, replying with a gesture that was more of a caress. Kili flushed slightly but leaned into the touch, proud of his brother’s mastery of pretty yet honest words. He’d be a fine addition to court, but how? Kili spoke for the House of Durin when it was needed, though it wasn’t considered one of the great Houses and Sansa had a knack of providing what the North needed.

 

She chose that moment to demonstrate that ability. “My husband has been without armed protection since regaining his position as Hand. It's been of some concern.”

 

“Because how can a half-man defend himself, so vulnerable to those determined to do harm to him and the crown?” Tyrion sardonically finished for her.

 

Sansa frowned at his words, away from court and with trusted friends; she showed her distaste for her husband’s self-mockery. It was so engrained in Tyrion now, Kili observed, yet Sansa loathed it, though less than she loathed those who openly insulted her husband. She always insulted them in return, even if they didn’t realise it. Her idea was sound; Tyrion truly hadn’t had a personal guard since accepting once more the job of Hand. As the greedy moved in the dark with eyes on the throne, Tyrion logically needed trusted protection.

 

Daenerys appeared intrigued by the idea. “You fight as well as your brother?”

 

Fili barked a short laugh. “With daggers I am better, though I have no love for the bow. With a sword in hand, we are even.”

 

“Prove it,” Tyrion announced. “Work with our master-at-arms and with any Queensguard that you don't share blood with. They will test your mettle and reveal the truth of your skills, however rusty.”

 

Daenerys nodded and Kili let out a breath. His brother could be near his side, they would not get every hour of every day together, but they would be gifted with many. And once Tyrion and Daenerys retired to their chambers, the nights would be theirs to plunder.

 

“I would speak to my Captain,” Daenerys announced abruptly.

 

There was only the barest of pauses.

 

“Then I shall take master Fili into the hallway, where people may see us in conversation and wonder at his ugly visage,” suggested Tyrion. “Come, your cock can survive a little time out of his presence.”

 

Fili grinned and swooped in close to Kili to press a quick but hungry kiss to his lips. No more would be appropriate before the Queen, unless she commanded it. Kili managed to let Fili go and watched as he left by Tyrion’s side. He was glad that Fili had taken to the dwarf so readily – Kili had long enjoyed Tyrion’s caustic company, as it reminded him of Bofur and Bifur and many close friends of old.

 

“And I will send a raven to the Mountain,” said Sansa softly.

 

Kili nodded his thanks, knowing that his uncle and aunt, and their beloveds would likely immediately make plans to visit the Red Keep. It had been some time since the head of the House of Durin had visited the Queen and the re-emergence of Fili was the perfect time to reaffirm bonds. Thorin hated to leave the Mountain but would do so for his beloved nephew's resurrection, as he had done on Kili's return. He would likely leave Balin and Dwalin in charge, as none would hold the territory better nor better minister to the people.

 

Once Sansa’s silks had whispered their last note out of the room, Daenerys turned clear keen eyes on Kili. A little of her regal poise slipped away to reveal more of the tired but determined girl that Kili knew and loved. He hoped that one day she would allow Fili to see that side of her also.

 

“You truly believe he has been returned to you whole?” she asked, both soft and pointed, a friend and a ruler in one.

 

Kili’s smile was endlessly bittersweet. “As whole as Mereen left you and I.”

 

For what did he know of all that Fili had truly been through? He knew there had been a shipwreck and years of hard work under slavers’ whips. And somehow, Fili had made his way to King’s Landing, holding onto enough of himself to attempt a desperate bid for a journey home. Maybe he would tell Kili about it, or maybe they’d just hold each other, hands grasping what words could not.

 

Something glimmered in Daenerys’ eyes and the understanding silence stretched between them, filled with memories, until Daenerys spoke again.

 

“If he hurts you, none on the Mountain will be able to prevent his punishment.”

 

Kili bowed his head, unable to accept her vow any other way. So much between them was unspoken, the love they held for each other. They had saved each other’s lives. He had vowed a similar sentiment about Jon Snow once, in a similar room, and Daenerys had smiled, gentle and happy at his words.

 

“See your brother to breakfast. Then take your place at my side in court.”

 

He was being dismissed, and the Queen was back on her throne. He bowed formally, his face saying everything that he could not, and exited the room. Tyrion and Fili were talking together, whilst Rickard and Mychal showed amusement. Kili’s heart lifted further; his brother was already finding his place in Kili’s world.

 

“Ah, you live long enough for breakfast, I take it?” Tyrion observed. “I’ll see you in court, young Durin, when your brother shall be so announced. Otherwise, the Houses and faiths will accuse us of keeping secrets.”

 

“They don’t know you at all, my lord,” smiled Kili.

 

“Indeed. I’ve told these two that I want no part of the latest wager that’s sweeping the guardsroom,” Tyrion was in his element as he began to take his leave of them. “Until court.”

 

Kili and the others bowed properly as Tyrion left, even Fili. Mychal and Rickard smiled at their Captain; if they were somewhere more private, they would be teasing him. Kili smiled back, with an edge.

 

“Take watch of the Queen until court.”

 

It was an order and Mychal and Rickard obeyed it, staying outside Daenerys’ door as Kili and Fili walked away, side by crooked side, to the kitchen where they took possession of what food they wanted, and gave the servants there something new to gossip about before retreating to Kili’s quarters. True privacy at last.

 

Kili fed his brother dried fruit by hand, unable to keep himself from touching Fili. Fili smiled and kissed his fingers, his eyes shining happily.

 

“I find my place, brother.”

 

Kili bit his lip, struck by a thought unearthed by Daenerys’ questions. “In my world, brother. Truly, you don’t wish to see the Mountain, our family and household again? I miss it and it hasn’t been as long for me and you may not enjoy…”

 

Before guilt and worry could strangle Kili further, Fili pressed a firm mouth to his. “Your world is mine. I would not be anywhere else, I _cannot_ be anywhere else. I begin to see what you achieve here, for our House, for the Queen…”

 

He chewed on more fruit and ate half a honey cake, feeding the rest to Kili. He smiled in a curious way.

 

“You love her.”

 

Kili lurched at the statement and tone, off-balance because surely Fili had already perceived the truth? Others didn’t understand but Fili _had_ to, Kili had never expected that he would have to explain this to his brother, the one who knew him so well. His heart hammered a sickly warning.

 

“You have always been my sun, brother, guiding and warming me and being the very essence I need to live. Daenerys is the moon – she brightened the darkest times as I hoped to do for her. Without her, I would be dead.”

 

Fili cradled his face and looked at him steadily. “More than family.”

 

“But not the flame of lovers,” Kili frowned, frustrated. “Her husband’s people have a word for it, one that I damage when attempting to say it aloud. All I know is, that word describes the binding between us, we pulled each other to life, we suffered the same heart-wound.”

 

“And yet you would have left her, if my fate here was different?”

 

Kili squeezed his eyes shut, pain burning through him at the very thought, but nodded. “I would.”

 

Featherlight kisses were dropped on each of his closed eyes in turn, then familiar lips lingered on his own. Fili held him close, comforting and gentle and entirely real.

 

“Her love for you rings the same, and stokes rumours, no doubt,” he spoke against Kili’s lips. “I…It will take time for me to grow used to her eyes on you.”

 

“Only her eyes, brother. I swear.”

 

Fili smiled and wrapped strong arms around Kili, the light in his expression momentarily banishing all dark thoughts from his brother’s mind. Kili breathed him in, glad and giddy.

 

“We must make the most of our time before court,” Fili told him, mouthing at his jaw. “I trust you remember how?”

 

Kili laughed, at the very edge of hysteria, and roughly tumbled them both down onto the bed. He sat astride his brother, greedy and feral and so very of the Mountain now that they were behind closed doors, and crowed.

 

_-the end_

**Author's Note:**

> Sibling incest: Kili and Fili are brothers who are also lovers. Their relationship will get more explicit as the series progresses.  
> Daenerys and Jon Snow are aunt and nephew and are romantically involved.


End file.
